


I Won't Disturb the Slumber of Feelings That Have Died

by Darkmagyk



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen, Tatooine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4627629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkmagyk/pseuds/Darkmagyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leia Organa is no angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Won't Disturb the Slumber of Feelings That Have Died

**Author's Note:**

> Written, inadvertently, for the women of star wars appreciation week. The first prompt was "don't look back."

Politicians all had the same look about them. He had never liked that look, even when he had liked some politicians. 

They sized you up. They took in every twitch of muscle and shift of limb. Even now, when they couldn’t see his face, they tried to read his body language. 

His master did it sometimes, too. He didn’t need to. No Jedi or Sith has ever needed to play such a silly guessing game the way the politicians do. But his master put on the show.

He found it infuriating. Lots of things his master did annoy him. Some he knew were on purpose. His master was trying to help him grow in his powers of the Dark Side, and hate and anger help that. But _politics_. It was beneath a Sith Lord. 

He _didn’t_ miss Obi-Wan. He couldn’t. Never. Not ever. He didn’t even think of him often. He was a traitor and a liar. One day he would face justice for what he had done. When he was found. 

_But_ , he had been, on the whole, correct about politicians. 

Vader had been summoned to a small meet and greet with a new group of senators. He was here to intimidate and make sure the Emperor's will was followed. It was a worthy and important task. But it had the drawback of spending time with the politicians. In a few years time, when the Emperor finally dissolved the senate, it would not be necessary anymore. 

Though that would mean that the sacrilege that was the Death Star was complete. But that was a worry for another time. 

He did not mingle. But he did drift among the group, about 100 in all when you counted various aids and hangers on, and occasionally speak when he felt someone was becoming too complacent in their attitudes. 

He watched them size each other up with nearly identical looks, even the few who weren’t human shared it. He watched them try to size him up, and fail in the face of his blank mask. And he listened as they tried to get to know the goings on. 

“She’s a pretty little thing,” Gossiped two aids who had been around too long to let his mere presence worry him. “As long as she remembers to smile, I’m sure she’ll do fine.”

“I don’t know,” Replied the other, “She’s very young, she either beat Mon Mothma’s record, or is just behind it. That spells ambition to me.”

“Maybe if she wasn’t a princess. Its Daddy’s seat, she’s just keeping it warm.”

“Not when her father is Bail Organa, they take their civil service seriously.” 

“Maybe for now, but soon the princess is going to be awash in true high society. We’ll see how long it lasts. A face like that, she'll have suitors throwing themselves at her. Young girls are terrible at caring about aid relief when in the face of boys."

"I'd like to give her a bit more credit. But she might be too pretty for her own good, I'll give you that. She actually looks like Senator Amidala, don't you think ." 

"I knew she reminded me of some..." She stopped, her companion choking for a moment before he released her throat. How dare the gossip bring up HER.

It would not do to make such a scene. It was not becoming of a Sith Lord.

But he had been meaning to speak to the Organa brat. 17, the youngest human ever election to the imperial or republic senate.

Her father was a concern, but he had heard tell that the girl had a falling out with him recently. She might prove to be an ally in his search for rebels, if she could be made to see since.

Though if she truly resembled...

He needed to see her regardless. 

He asked an imperial aid to point her out to him. She was a very short, dark haired woman dressed all in white.

He was almost apprehensive as he watched her, waiting for her to turn so he could see her face. If he could still hold his breath, he doubtlessly would have as she responded to the call of her name. He got a full view of her. 

Leia Organa was no angel.

She _was_ pretty. For those who care about such things. Her height and hair color weren’t dissimilar to Padme’s. But beyond that and the affected grace that all politicians seem to share, he didn’t see it. 

Something about her was familiar, though. She didn’t look like her father at all. He knew that. Perhaps she looked like the Queen. But he’d never met that woman, so that couldn’t be the cause of his recognition.

But still, there was durasteel in her gaze as she swept the gathered room. Her mouth twisted. Like she could spit fire at all assembled here, but wouldn't, because it would hurt her cause in the long run. 

Her eyes narrowed and the best way he could describe her expression was a sandstorm, barely controlled by her politicians mask. 

And then he realized, with a jolt in his stomach why she looked familiar. 

She looked like a daughter of the desert. Like a woman who could face down a sandstorm or Hutt with iron in her eyes but steady kindness in her heart.

Leia Organa’s skin was too pale and too soft to have ever seen a desert sun, let alone two. Her hands, clasped together in front of her, mostly hidden by her sleeves, were surely callus free, and had never seen a days labor. Her white dress would not last long in the sand.

And yet...

She looked like his mother. 

Brown eyes capable of infinite love and infinite anger. Tongue ready with a reprimand or a wisdom or a kind word. Prepared to face the worst of indignity, and ready to come out the other side stronger. A woman who could free the slaves. 

He wishes she looked more like Padme.

Then she smiled at something one of her companion said, and he was struck by a different familiarity. He couldn’t place it before something flared in the Force. Something old and lost and far to Jedi like. 

He growled to himself as he pushed whatever that thought was away. He was getting distracted. He was letting the past and old failures that meant nothing control him. It was not the way of the Sith.

He needed to speak to the girl. He wanted to see her fix him with her politician’s look. No one on Tatooine had ever required such a thing, she would prove herself no daughter of the desert. He would be rid of whatever the Force is trying to teach him. 

“Senator Organa,” He said. His voice didn’t sound right to his mechanically enhanced ears. He’d have to do some maintenance later. 

No jumping or flinching at his approach, almost as though she expected it. She turned steadily to look at him. Graceful, to be sure, but more like a warrior, in complete control of their body, then a politician, in complete control of their image.

Her eyes (brown and infinite and so like his mother's) gazed into his eyes, even though they were shielded. Her smile was gone when she addressed him. “Lord Vader.”

Her gaze did not sway. She did not take in the shift of his arm or the rustle of his leg, though her companions all do. She seemed to be waiting for him to say something. Perhaps she’d try to figure him out once she’d heard him. It was a common tactic among the less skilled set.

“Your father served the Empire for a long time, are you settling into his place well?” 

“Yes, Lord Vader,” she said in a blandly pleasant politicians voice. “Thank you.” 

Again, her eyes were steady on his face. Discernment there, yes. But not calculation. No politics. 

What was she…

There was a brush on his mind. A light tap. Almost unnoticeable for someone who wasn’t well acquainted both in how his mind works, and how others might use theirs against him. 

Was Princess Leia Organa was trying to get a read on him _using the Force_? It was impossible. He reached out to her, and went searching through her mind. All he found was confusion. No hint of a force probe...maybe it had been unintentional. 

That actually made a lot of since. The tap he’d felt would have required lots of precision and training. Even the Jedi had not worked on that level, normally. He remembered teaching something like it to Ahsoka one evening, but it hadn’t been something Obi-Wan had showed him. It had been something he’d discovered as a child, a trick he and his mother had used to test Watto’s moods. 

He probed Leia Organa now, looking for some hint of a force sensitive woman hidden away from the Empire. She stared back at him, her companions growing more and more uncomfortable with his attention, and even she seemed to be confused by his actions. 

There was no Jedi here. No secret force sensitive child. He was being tested again. Or perhaps he was hallucinating again. It might be time to try sleeping again. 

Leia Organa was _not_ a daughter of the desert. She did _not_ know mind disciplines he had taught only to his apprentice. 

He turned without another word and stalked away. He needed to meditate, he needed to immerse himself within the Dark Side, and he probably needed real sleep. Then he could see Leia Organa for what she was. 

(another politician, a rebel, surely, a nuisance)

 _This is your last chance to see it. What does your heart tell you?_ The Light Side whispered as he left the room. He did not look back. 

_Don’t look back._

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [tumblr](http://darkmagyk.tumblr.com/).


End file.
